


Taking the Heat

by Bubonicc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sticky Sex, robot in heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubonicc/pseuds/Bubonicc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift feels unwell, and is unsure why everyone if giving him strange looks until a certain CMO helps him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Ah...more for my personal kink...but i'll share.  
> If you spot typos forgive me, I'll fix them as I go!!

Drift tossed and turned in his berth, the covers flying all around until he threw them completely off. Slamming his back against the berth, he panted, coolant streaming down the sides of his face. Only after a moment did he realize he was soaking wet.

            Hot.

Why was everything so _hot_?

            Drifts fans kicked on and he rolled onto his side, optics half open as he exhaled a ragged sigh of frustration. His lower abdomen ached and the plating seemed to itch with a need to self service. In fact all he could think about was getting fragged. No matter how hard he tried to banish the thought it kept returning to him, making his hips restless. Pressing his legs together, he squeezed his pillow and groaned.

              It had been hours and recharge was still evading him, leaving him staring at the walls and ceiling until finally he sat up. Static crackled over his frame, a light charge seeming to have built.

            Running his forearm across his forehead, he felt how hot his frame was. No way he could have caught another virus, Ratchet had made sure he was clear of the rust ages ago.

            "Frag off." Throwing his legs over the berth he stood, stretching till every one of his spinal struts popped. Rubbing one of his finials, he grabbed his swords and strapped them to his hips before making his way to the built in dojo. If anything was going to make him feel better maybe a little sword forms and meditation would do him some good. Followed by a nice shower and maybe some energon at Swerves bar and all would be fine.

            The door to his suit slid open and he stepped out, making his way to the left and walked for a while before seeing Cyclonus and Tailgate heading towards him.

            Tailgate skipped quite a few paces ahead of Cyclonus and whizzed right by Drift with a quick hello.

            "Hurry Cyclonus! Rewind will start the movie without us! Hurry!" He jumped at the end of the hall and watched Cyclonus and Drift pass one another.

            As Drift passed, the breeze that followed brushed over Cyclonus, causing him to freeze mid walk and turn slightly.

            "Drift-" His nose twitched at the unusually sweet scent the samurai was giving off. A scent that forced his optics to narrow and a low rumble to emerge from his engines. His plating rattled and he side stepped until he faced the white mech.

            "What?" Stopping and turning just a bit, Drift looked over his shoulders, his cheeks flushed slightly. A single hand was placed on a jagged hip and he tilted to one side, a rather un-amused look crossed his face.

            "You're-" The single horned mech began before his finger was grabbed and Tailgate yanked him along.

            "Sorry Drift can't talk!" The minibot waved at him before dragging Cyclonus away.

            "Whatever..." Main objective returning to him, he continued on, passing a few others and the medical bay. Glancing in as he walked by, he spotted Ratchet talking with First Aid. A data pad in his hand, he was showing his student something, not seeing Drift walk by.

            A wave of heat splashed over him and he struggle to swallow a knot in his intake as a throb coursed through his hips. A hunger suddenly grew as he watched the medic and it was followed by his fans roaring at full speed. Walking slightly faster by the med bay now, he hurried to the door, worried Ratchet might hear his fans. The last thing he wanted was Ratchet snooping around with him when he felt unwell.

            On his way he was grabbed by Magnus who insisted he stay in his hab suit for the next few days. When Drift asked why Magnus just tilted his head to the side then shook his head and walked away. Without another word, he just entered his dojo and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it before anybody else could give him a weird look.

            First, Drift tried to meditate, doing his best to clear his mind of any and all stressful thoughts. Sitting down in the center of the room, he crossed his legs and offlined his optics. For a while it was quiet and he felt slightly better, but the throbbing in his lower abdomen returned. Wincing, he squirmed a bit and swallowed hard, a hungry need growing.

            _hmm...Ratchet...._

Optics flickering open, he shook his head and tried to concentrate again. Readjusting his sitting position he inhaled deeply and dimmed his optics out once more.

            _Shove me against the wall and frag me like you mean it...Frag me until I system crash...frag me..._

Optics opening once more, he found himself on his back now, staring at the ceiling, intakes working overtime to cool his rapidly heating frame. More coolant streamed down his faceplate, and he felt his spike nudging his inner plating wanting to get out.

            "Must have accidentally nodded off" Standing, he brushed himself off and made his way to the washroom built into the side of the dojo.

            Unclipping his blades, he set them aside before punching a button on the side of the wall and letting the shower head douse him in water. Plating rippling under the water, he smiled. Nothing like a hot shower to ease an aching frame.

            Another painful  throb and he arched slightly, a hand setting down on his lower stomach he winced. It rippled, pinched almost.

            "What the frag is going on..." Sliding back his panel, his spike jutted out faster than he had ever seen it before. The throbbing eased slightly now that the pressure was off, but it had moved to his painfully hard spike now.  A strange scent crept up to him and he tilted his head to the side. His engines rumbled and the hungry need crept up his spine.

            Hesitating, he grabbed it and began to stroke it how he always did when he self serviced. A slow up and down motion followed by a twist when he reached the head, except this time it felt a hundred times better than usual.

            "Nng...Come on...come on...." Pressing his forehead against the shower wall he rubbed harder, using his thumb to brush over the head. "Mhm~" The feeling of illness faded and he gasped with each jerk. Optics flashing, he looked up, still pressed to the wall.

             A sharp wince when his valve clenched, protesting against being left unattended. Solving this problem, Drifts free hand crept down until he ran two fingers through his valve lips, having to stop after a while from shivering and squirming.

            _Everything is so....sensitive...hot. Ah~ But it feels to good....I need this...._

A hard exhale, and he slid a single servo into himself. Gritting his denta, his knees knocked together as he forced himself to set a pace with the rubbing of his spike. His plating crawled as overload was just on the other side.  Shuttering his optics, his mouth gaped and a strangled noise escaped his voalizer.

            Tightening his grip on himself, he quickened the pace, adding a harder twist. In minutes he shot his transfluid against the wall, open mouth and whining. Frame quivering, he sank slightly, stroking himself through the blissful feeling.

            "Ah-ha!~ Mhm ah-uh..." As the waves settled, he peaked open a single optics, having expected his spike to depressurize and sink back into its housing, but instead it remained hard and proud. "What?" Pulling his hand from his valve, he stepped back and looked at himself. "Oh come on...Don't do this to me I did what you wanted." No matter how long he wanted to argue with his crotch, his spike remained, except the throbbing feeling returned and he grimaced.

            Feeling light headed, he staggered and fell staggered over to a bench and sat down. Legs spread, he looked down again, then manually pushed his spike back into its housing and closed his panel.

            Leaning back he sighed, then jumped when his spike popped his panel open and jutted out.

            "What the..." Jamming it back in he snapped his panel closed again then waited. A throb then again his spike popped his panel and came out again. "You have got to me fragging me right now." Once more he pushed his spike in and by now it was tender and irritated. Closing the panel, he punched it, denting it to a point it couldn't open. Just to be sure he waited, and with no further interruptions, he stood, rinsed off the wall then left.

 

* * *

 

 

            "Another." Drift tapped his empty glass on the bar, instantly having another pushed over to him.

"You feeling alright Drift? You look a little....red." Swerve asked as he washed the counter.

            "Fine...just...tired." Sipping at his energon, he noticed Preceptor staring at him from the other side of the bar.

            Even though Drift was unaware of the scent he was giving off, it was lulling Preceptor in. Causing the scientist to fidgets on his stool and tap his glass nervously.

             "What?" He asked, and watched Preceptors face light up with embarrassment.

            "Oh ah...nothing. Just...you...you do realize..." Accidentally knocking his drink over, the glass fell to the floor and shattered. Panicking, he tried to pick of the pieces.

            Unable to help himself, Drift stared directly at Preceptors aft as he bent to clean up. His tank turned and the throb returned. He could feel his spike pushing against the dented plating, begging to come out. Putting the glass down, Drift quickly left, the last thing he needed was his spike popping out in the open for everyone to see.

            _I just need to....recharge this off...I'll be fine..._

Walking fast, he ignored Rung who tried to stop him, then tried to ignore Ratchet as he saw him walking ahead. Though he was looking down at a datapad as he walked, normal for him. Once Drift passed him and the gust of air followed close behind, and Ratchet stopped.

            Nose twitching, he snagged Drifts arm, forcing him to turn and look at him. He squinted, scanning over Drift without saying anything. Drift just stood there for a moment before he felt uncomfortable. Whenever Ratchet analyzed him like that he felt way to exposed, as if Ratchet knew all his weak points.

            "Let go of me." Drift yanked his arm free, growling. "Why does everybody keep looking at me like that?" Irritation was building, and he tried to walk away but Ratchet stepped in front of him, then side stepped him again when he tried to walk around him. "Frag Ratchet move!"

            "Come with me. Now." Hooking his arm around one of Drifts, he nearly dragged Drift to the med bay before forcing him to sit on a medical berth.

            "Ratchet, please...I just want to go and recharge." He tried to slide from the table But stopped when Ratchet put the back of his hand on Drifts forehead.

            "How long have you felt like this?"

            "Like what?"

            "You're on fire. Your plating is flared, and your optics are nearly white. Plus you just reek."

            "I just showered!"

            "You reek of heat , Drift. You're in heat."

            "What..." Shoulders sagging, Drift frowned.

            "First time...hmm." Leaning in, Ratchet began to palpate the wires on Drifts neck. "Oh yes, first time. Your main lines are swollen. Don't worry, its normal. I'm surprised its happening to you this late. I mean...you're young but....normally it happens sooner. Rodimus already had his...." Figuring the late bloom was due  to the frame replacements and mods Drift had obtained during his transition from decepticon to autobot.

            "So what do I do...?"

            "Well...I can see you already tried." Pointing at the dented panel, Drift shifted and tried to hide it. "You can either do that for the next three days, or you can conceive a sparkling with somebot. That stops it."

            "I don't want a sparkling Ratchet....not now anyway."

            "Then you will have to wait it out, like the rest of us. Welcome to the club kid." Slapping Drift on the back, his plating rattled. Only when he saw Drift face twist did he frown. "Drift...don't....don't do it....Drift-"

            "Pfft-" Coolant tears streamed down his face and he choked on a sob he tried to hold in. "I...what's...happening to me...I can't stop."

            "Symptoms of a heat cycle. Abdominal pain, heightened sexual tension, cravings, oversensitive frames, irritation...and last but not least....emotional outbursts." And he thought Rodimus was bad. "Just relax Drift. You're fine. I promise." Turning, he shuffled through a few cabinets before pouring something in a glass and handing it to Drift. "Drink this, it will settle some off the pain in your tanks."

            With shaking hands Drift took it and sucked it down, handing the glass back to him before running the back of his hand over his optics. Brushing coolant tears back, a shaky sigh escaped him.

            "Better?" He watched Drift nod slowly. "Listen Drift. How many know you are in heat right now?"

            "Cyclonus I think...Perceptor...and," The sob crept back up, "Magnus!" Burying his faceplate into his hands, he groaned. "What do I do....?"

            "Go back to your hab suit, un-dent your panel. I have something I think will help. I'll be along in a bit, just get comfortable, calm down and relax while you wait. No more of this sobbing, alright kid." Helping Drift off the table, he walked him out into the hall and sent him on his way.

 

Drift lay on his side on his berth, optics onlining when he heard the hiss of his door open then shut and the sound of a lock after it closed. Turning over, he saw Ratchet imputing the medical override to keep the door locked just in case someone tried to get in.

            "Ratchet?" His voice was horse as he sat up.

            "Feeling a little better?" The CMO came and sat on the edge of the berth, a small box in his hands.

            "I don't feel as hot anymore...and the throbbing isn't as bad."

            "Good...but I'm about to change that." Opening the box, he pulled out a vile full of a pale green jelly.

            "What are you talking about?" Propping himself on his elbows now, Drift gave the medic a weary look.

            "Do you want to wait the heat out? Or do you want it over now?"

            "I would rather it be gone as soon as possible."

            "Good, then lay back and spread your legs for me. Just let me do the work." Ratchet was rather pleased when Drift did as he was told. Resting back, he spread himself, opening his panel even before Ratchet asked.

            "Nng..." Arching slightly when the air touched his valve lips, he felt a wave of heat spread to his cheeks, trying not to think of Ratchet staring at his exposed equipment.

            "Hmm...as I thought," Leaning down, he examined the swollen valve lips, normally a light pale white, now a dark pink, "Swollen." Pressing his palm against the valve, he slid his middle and ring servo through the lips, earning a high pitched squeal from the samurai. Heat Radiated out onto Ratchets hand, calling for more.

            His legs jerked and he twisted, yanking the berth covers as Ratchet did it again and again until he shot up on his elbows.

"F-frag! R-Ratchet!~" He fell back down, arching when the medics middle servo dipped into the valve. "Grk!~"

            It was searing, and the walls welcomed him by fluttering and convulsing. Coaxing him to go deeper, Drift clenched hard, letting out a loud growl.

            With his free hand, Ratchet tapped on Drift spike housing, and instantly it popped out, still as hard as it was in the showers.

            A second servo and Drift's optics rolled into the back of his head. His spike twitched and Ratchet felt the vice grip on his servos when overload ravaged the ex-con. Transfluid spurted from his spike and coated his chest, but he was to lost in bliss to care.

            Continuing to thrust his servos into him, Ratchet leaned down and kissed along Drifts inner thigh until his lips grazed over his outer node. It twitched under the contact, heating instantly.

            "Deep breaths." Ratchet said before his glossa ran over the node a few times.

            "Hnng!-Ratch-PleAH!~" Hips jerking up, Drift sat up again. The drunken look on his face only intensified as he watched Ratchet. "O-Oh~" Tilting his head back, he sucked air in through his denta, twitching as that talented glossa tickled his valve. He didn't notice he was rubbing one of his own finials. "Frag Ratchet...that's....that's good~." Swallowing hard, he laid back when Ratchet pulled away.

            "It's only going to get better. Spread your valve for me, I need to put this on your ceiling node if this is to work." Uncapping the vile he had brought, he dumped the jelly onto his fingers and rubbed it around until they were coated.

            Looking down at Drift, his own engines suddenly revved. Something about the way Drift was staring at him while he spread and presented himself woke something primal up in him. That drunken needy look only drew him in more.

            "What is it?"

            "It's something Preceptor and I have created for this just occurrence. It filters out transfluid, making it infertile when it reaches into your chamber. So no Sparkling can be created. Though since there will still be fluid in your chamber it will satisfy your heat and in a few hours you will cool down. Think of it as tricking your systems. Now hold still. It's going to be cold." Leaning back down, he slid his two servos into Drift, feeling him quiver under him.

            "Ah...it is cold." Spreading his legs a little more, he watched as Ratchets optics rotated and widened. That sweat scent Drift was giving off only becoming more and more intoxicating the more aroused be became.

            Pushing all the way inside, Ratchet felt Drifts ceiling node and began coating it in the jelly. After a few seconds he pulled out and nodded to himself.

            "Just give it a minute to set in and we can start." Leaning forwards between Drift's legs, Ratchet began to kiss up his frame until he was planting tender kisses on his neck.

            Tilting his head to the side, Drift gave his medic better access to nibble at his wiring. Hips jumping when he felt Ratchets spike jut out and slide across his own, he curled his peds in anticipation.

            "R-Ratchet....I don't think I can wait much longer. I'm burning up...I really am." Sounding out of breath, Drift rubbed his own finial harder. "Everything is so hot Ratchet....I'm so hot...."

            "Shh...I know kid. I know." Reaching up and pulling Drift's hand away, Ratchet began to rub the finial, earning a loud purr and a stupid smile on the samurais' face. "You're doing fine. Just relax." His hips moved slowly back and forth, sliding over Drift's spike a few times before he shimmied down a little. Running the length of his spike through Drifts valve lips, his plating tightened at the beautiful _squlitch_ noise if kept making.

            "Ratchet please..." He heard the words slip from Drift barely parted lips. "Please...please..." Optics half open, he nuzzled into Ratchet's neck, optics closing.

            Pulling back, Ratchet dug the head of his spike into the valve, feeling Drift jerk under him before wrapping his arms around him and thrusting everything he had into the heat.

            Drift shot up, a loud wail bursting out as his chestplace clashed with Ratchets drawing sparks.

            "RhhaaAH!" Wrapping both arms around Ratchets neck, he held on with each powerful thrust. Pelvic plating clashing against pelvic plating, Drift howled. Every node in his valve lighting up and zapping him with heightened pleasure. Each time Ratchets hips became flush against his, he saw stars dance in his optics until overload rammed him.

            Transfluid spurted out between the two of them but Ratchet didn't stop, if anything the clenching valve only spurred him on.

            "F-Frag Ratchet! _Ratchet!~_ " Twisting, Drift grabbed his own finials, mouth open and letting out glitched babble. "R-R-R-Rat-ch-ch-ch-chet! P-Plea-s-s-se!~ Harder! Frag me harder!" His voice dropped and he choked on his words.

            Ramming in one more time, Ratchet pulled out and yanked Drift up, flipping him onto his hands and knees before yanking his hands out from under him. Getting to his own knees, he pushed his spike into the dripping valve and leaned over Drift. Placing his hands at either side of Drifts head, his chestplate kept Drifts front pressed into the berth. Forced to stay with his aft in the air, Drift leaned back slightly.

           Looking over his shoulder at Ratchet, the CMO's own faceplate was a hot pink as he started to buck into him.

            This position was ten times better for him. Each thrust now striking Drift's ceiling node dead center. The pace was quick and hard, rattling Drift and inching him up the berth with each new pound.

            "Fr-fr-Frag me! Ah!~ Yes~ _YesyesyesYES!~_ Ratchet right there! Please right there!" Servos knotting in the berth sheets, Drift gritting his dents before screaming.

            "Nng..." Ratchet used one hand to start rubbing one of Drift finials and it wasn't long after that a second dose of his transfluid splattered out onto the berth.

            The twisted look on Drifts face and the strangled whimper of pleasure sent Ratchet over and he released his searing fluids into Drift. Having done a little preparation before he met Drift, he had worked himself over enough to gather enough transfluid in his tank to fill Drift enough for his abdomen to bloat slightly.

            Each thrust after caused some to spurt out and stream down Drift's thighs, though he didn't seem to mind since his processors were sent scrambling.

            Ratchet slowed down, easing his spike and out gently and then finally stopped once his own waves of overload subsided. Pulling out of Drift, he watched his aft sink and the dazed look remain on Drift's face.

            "Hnnng....~" He sounded when Ratchet rolled him onto his back, his optics still dark and a single stream of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth.

            "I bet you're feeling much better...." Holding up his arm, Ratchet scanned Drift over, watching his core temperature slowly drop. The jelly was working and slowly Drift would feel like himself again. Though a part of Ratchet wished he could see that needy face all the time.

            "Ratchet..." He looked back at the ex-con, a stupid grin on his face as his optics barely dimmed online. "Recharge with me?"

            "I guess so...but not in this mess." Getting p and grabbing a cloth Drift used regularly to clean his blades, the medic began to clean him off until most of the mess was gone.

            Laying beside the white bot, he draped an arm over him and pulled him close, rather enjoying it when Drift snuggled into the crook of his neck and knocked out instantly.

            "You're something else kid..." He whispered, pulling his hand up and rubbing the tip of Drifts finial. "Don't ever change."

 

 


End file.
